“Be certain,” Catelyn told her son, “or go home and take up that wooden sword again. You cannot afford to seem indecisive in front of men like Roose Bolton and Rickard Karstark. Make no mistake, Robb-these are your bannermen, not your friends. You named yourself battle commander. Command.”

“Tell Robb that I'm going to command the Night's Watch and keep him safe, so he might as well take up needlework with the girls and have Mikken melt down his sword for horseshoes.- Jon Snow”

“on Roose Bolton's face, rage and joy looked much the same.”

“There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton's face, rage and joy looked much the same.”

“A lord may love the men that he commands, but he cannot be a friend to them. One day he may need to sit in judgement on them, or send them forth to die.”

“The singers make much of kings who valiantly die in battle, but your life is worth more than a sword. To me at least, who gave it to you.”

“Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother.” said Mormont.“And this too,” said Jon. “A vow.”The Old Bear gave a loud snort, and the raven took flight, flapping in a circle about the room. “Give me a man for every vow I’ve seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders.”“I’ve always known that Rob will be Lord of Winterfell.”Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. “A lord’s one thing, a king’s another. They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You’ll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they’ll call `Your Grace’. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon… and I’ll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it.”Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?”“What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are.”“Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”